


Poisoned Flower

by deviantsadvocate



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 75th Hunger Games, F/M, Hunger Games, Hunger Games Tributes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviantsadvocate/pseuds/deviantsadvocate
Summary: None of the President's children had gained much press, especially his youngest daughter. She hadn't been seen in public for almost fifteen years to suddenly be thrusted back into the limelight. She didn't know why but her father always had a reason
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. The Announcement

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfic which I wrote about five years ago. I found it whilst scrolling through my old Tumblr account and thought, why not re-write it? It may seem familiar to a few people and that's why. I haven't changed the storyline and have only made corrections and adapted it to my current writing style, 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“It’s the final countdown until the Victors or the 74th Hunger Games embark on the largely anticipated Victory Tour! To recap for anyone who may have forgotten, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark will visit each District to speak in front of their people along with the families of this year’s fallen tributes. It will end with a large celebration right here in the Capital. It’s been far too long since we last saw our favourite star-crossed lovers…”

Plastered across the large television was the ever-enthusiastic host Caesar Flickerman giving details about the upcoming events. It was the only thing people seemed to care about in the Capital. Every show, advert and channel droned on about it. They showed re-runs of the games as well as interviews and talk shows discussing menial things such as what they were going to be wearing. Everyone was obsessed with it.

Whereas most of the Capital were likely hanging off Caesar’s every word, the room’s single occupant wasn’t paying any attention to what was happening on the screen. The talking had faded into background noise a while ago. She stood before the window looking over the city and lost in her own thoughts. Her hands were crossed over her torso as a mind raced.

The room itself was a classic example of the lavish lifestyle the residents of the Capital lived in, just with a little less colour. It was spacious with walls made from pure white marble. The floor was laminated with a grey wood design and was covered with several white fur rugs. She had always hoped that they were fake, but this was the Capital. She doubted that they were. In the centre of the living room space was a large white leather sofa which took up at least half of the space. Seeing as it was only her living there, it seemed ridiculous. A large television took up the middle of the wall directly opposite it. To its right was a small entranceway with a black door at its end. It was lined with an intricate gold design and it was rarely unlocked. The window she was standing in front of was to the left of the sofa and spanned the width of the room. That, along with the amount of white, made the room appear brighter than it was. Towards the back of the room and up a couple of steps was a dining area. There was a small dining table just big enough to sit four people. There was an oven, fridge and other cooking equipment that she had no idea how to use. She had people who did that for her. The only thing she was allowed to use was the sink. In the far left of this area was a spiral staircase which lead to her living quarters. The steps had gaps in between them, the kind which made you feel as if you would fall through if you didn’t watch your step.

She stayed at the window for a moment longer before she let out a sigh. She moved across the room and picked up a glass of water that she had left next to the sink. She leaned up against the counter and took a sip of the water. It was still fairly cold. As she did so, she watched as an Avox (a woman not much older than herself) walk down the staircase after finishing upstairs. She had probably cleaned her room. The Avox walked with her head down to avoid eye contact and once she had gotten to the bottom of the stairs, placed herself in the corner of the room. Her hands were crossed by her waist in respect. Avox’s always made the girl uncomfortable but she had learnt at the young age that she had no choice but to let them do their job. Besides, this one had been with her for several years.

The girl’s attention was drawn back to the television for the first time since the programme had begun as Caesar moved onto a slightly different topic. It was the one she had been waiting for. She hurried to sit on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other when she sat. She leant forwards onto her forearms, but still held onto the glass.

“…And I have been given the pleasure of making an announcement that you have all been eagerly waiting for. It’s been a secret which I have been dying to tell you. It’s something that will go down in history!”. He had his signature grin as he spoke, but there was also a twinkle in his eye. It was as if a child had been told that he could have an unlimited supply of candy. Well, to him it was probably the same type of thing. “It has been almost fifteen years since we last saw her. Ladies and Gentlemen, after the conclusion of the Victory Tour we will once again be reunited with our President’s youngest daughter. Yes, you heard that right folks! Diantha Snow will be making her public re-debut right here with an exclusive interview with yours truly…”

Picking up the remote Diantha turned off the television.


	2. The Meeting

The days leading up to the President’s party at the end of Victory Tour were like a whirlwind. There were countless meetings about what Diantha was going to wear, what she was supposed to say and who she would be required to speak to. The day following Caesar’s announcement a collection of files was sent to her apartment full of information about the important upperclassmen of Panem’s society who would be in attendance. She had spent all of her free time sat on the floor with the files spread out around her and memorising as much as she could. There were trips to visit some famous stylist (whom she had never heard of) to get measures, all the while they talked as if she wasn’t even there. Although, that wasn’t something unusual. Visits to offices of the President’s closest administrators were also on the agenda. They spoke to her about what topics she needed to avoid in conversation. It was a lot to do in a short space of time.

Two before, Diantha had been awoken when the sky was still dark. She had seen an outfit laid out before her which gave her the reason why. It was a knee-length black dress with long frilly sleeves. It would have been normal is it wasn’t for the white rose pinned to the left of her chest, right above her heart. She made her way downstairs to be greeted by two Peacekeepers. Without exchanging any words, they left her apartment. This silence continued in the elevator down to the entrance of the building. Others may have found this lack of conversation awkward but Diantha had nothing more to say to them, and them to her. Even though she lived at the very top of her building, it took just over a minute to travel down all sixty floors of the building. She couldn’t even feel it move. That’s the Capital’s technology for you.

Once they had exited the building, Diantha was escorted straight into the backseat of a black car parked out front. Its windows were made from reflective glass which meant that she could see out, but no one could see in. Another two Peacekeepers were sat inside.

They drove the short journey to the City Circle where the Presidential Mansion stood. The sun was starting to rise as they entered the building. That wasn’t unusual, there would be less people around to notice her. The only sound was the footsteps as they walked through the corridors. Three Peacekeepers were lined at both sides, all walking in sync. They stopped in front of the door and they lined up against the wall. An assistant appeared and opened the door so she could enter.

Diantha stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She had thought that it was quiet outside, but in here it was as if the world had stopped. Even her breathing seemed unbearably loud. She stayed standing by the door with her hands resting in the small of her back in respect. However, she refused to lower her head which was something people were expected to do in this situation. Instead she looked straight at the other occupant of the room who was sat writing at his desk.

Although she had seen him regularly on television, she had not seen President Snow in person in almost a decade. He looked so much older than she did when they were last face-to-face. His hair was now white, and he appeared frailer. Despite this she, just like everyone else, knew just how powerful he was.

Unlike the President, his office had barely changed over the years. The walls were white and the floor a rich mahogany. The desk was made from the same wood, just stained a little darker. There were two red chairs in front of it and a slightly larger one where the President sat. Behind him were two red flags with the symbol of the capital in the centre. Her father wore a black and white suit with his signature white rose in his lapel. He carried on writing something at his desk completely ignoring the young girl standing before him. Minutes passed but she dared not move.

“Sit” her father commanded without even glancing at her. She did as she was told and sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. She sat in a similar manner as she had stood. Her hands were folded in her lap and her back was straight. She still looked directly at him. Several more minutes passed until he put down his pen and finally leaned back to look at her. Just like she had not seen him in over a decade, he had obviously not seen her. She was now a young woman, an adult who had significantly changed from the quiet and meek child he had seen last.

“I see that you are well.”

“Yes father.”

“And everything is still to your liking?” he asked, although the tone of his voice suggested that it was a statement rather than a question.

“Yes father.”

“Very good.”

As he spoke, he looked directly into her eyes. It was the kind of thing that would have made most people look away in fear. She refused to break eye-contact and kept his gaze. He was doing it on purpose, and she wasn’t going to back down. He was testing how much she had changed.

“Well I haven’t called you here for pleasantries” he continued. “I have decided to release you back into the public eye. Are you aware of the current situations in the districts?”

“Somewhat. I have heard of unrest from rebels, although to what degree I don’t know” she answered keeping her voice from showing any signs of her being intimidated. “As you know, I don’t have the opportunity to speak to a lot of people. I only relay on what is broadcasted to the public” she added.

“I guess you do not” he chuckled unnervingly, a little impressed at how confident she now was. Last time they had spoken, Diantha couldn’t say a whole sentence without her voice wavering. “There are certain individuals who wish to start a rebellion to overthrow the Capital-”

“-And you need me to be a distraction?” she finished.

“Exactly. You will be re-introduced to the citizens of Panem after the conclusion of the Victory Tour. Your job is to spread the word of peace within the districts, persuade them that a rebellion will be worthless. Make them believe that you are on their side. Will you do that?”

“Yes father” she replied. Not that she had any choice.

“Good. The same rules of what you can speak of apply as always. Succeed and you will be rewarded. Fail and, well, we’ll work that out if it happens” he said menacingly. “You may go”.

Diantha had prepared for her public appearance ever since that day. She stood in front of her mirror practicing her smile and laugh which she would have to do during the uninteresting conversations she would have to be a part of. She wrote speeches about the Capital and the unrest that were full of lies. All the while the President’s final words as she left his office that day were stuck in her head.

“Convince me”.


	3. The Mysterious Girl

The penultimate day of the Victory Tour had arrived. Early in the morning, Diantha was woken up by her Avox and helped into a plain dress. It didn’t matter what she was wearing anyway, she would soon be put into something different. She put her hand on the doorknob to exit her bedroom when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She turned around to face her Avox.

The young woman wasn’t much older than Diantha, possibly in her mid-twenties. Her appearance was the exact same as every other Avox in the Capital; red hair tied back into a tight bun, matching makeup and a long robe which was also red. Her skin was tanned, her face was round, and she had large eyes and a crooked nose. She was also extremely thin. They didn’t get fed that well. However, one thing was different about this Avox. Whereas they would avoid eye-contact, she looked straight into Diantha’s. Her dark brown eyes showed no fear and shame, but instead were gentle and reassuring. She moved her hands in a way that only the two of them understood.

‘Good luck.’

“Thank you”. Diantha whispered. It was simple but she felt a little less daunted by the day ahead.

To anyone else this would be frowned upon and would result in punishment. An Avox’s job was to simply do as they were told to atone for rebelling or trying to escape. They weren’t supposed to communicate to those they worked for, not that they really could with their tongues having been removed. However, Diantha couldn’t care less about those rules. This Avox had been working for her for well over five years and was really the only company she got. She rarely got visitors and those had only been teachers, security and government officials who would stop by to ensure she wasn’t doing anything she wasn’t supposed to. So, she had decided to befriend her Avox and the two created a series of hand gestures to form their own language.

Initially her Avox had been reluctant to do so due to fear that she would get in trouble if anyone found out. There were also security cameras in the living area. Therefore, they only communicated in the safety of her bedroom. The two of them had gotten quite close over the years. Diantha learnt that her name was Eden and found out about the things she liked, the books she had loved to read and the food he had enjoyed before she fell into her current situation. She dared not to press into Eden’s past too much and, frankly, she didn’t care about what she had done to get here. Eden was like an older sister to her, providing comfort and wisdom when she needed it. In return, Diantha made her job as easy as possible. Although, outside of her bedroom they had to act as strangers.

Diantha followed the same routine as she had done two months before when she had been summoned by her father. Except this time, instead of going to his office, she was led to one of the many bedrooms in his mansion. Once through the doors she was practically pushed into the arms of the styling team who quickly introduced themselves before starting. The team was made up of three women. One, she was informed, was a famous fashion designer, the second a famous makeup artist and the third a famous hair stylist. She had no idea who they were and, as far as she knew, they had been told that she was just the daughter of someone from the government. They all wore overdramatic outfits and makeup in neon colours which slightly concerned Diantha as she wasn’t sure what they would make her wear.

Hours passed as they prepped her for the party. Countless products were used to make her skin smooth, her hair washed, and her body scrubbed. She was by no means a dirty person, but these people made her feel as if she hadn’t washed in over a year. She dared not complain though, choosing to do as she was told and let them do that, they wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. She tried her best to pay attention to the things the team were talking about, but they were all so trivial that she couldn’t help but zone out on more than one occasion. Though she made sure to answer when spoken to. It was like a practice run for the evening. Night had fallen by the time they had finished. The stylists took a step back to admire their work. Their eyes scanned every part of her body making her feel a little self-conscious.

“You look beautiful darling!” the designer exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

All three smiled widely at her and encouraged her to have a look. She walked in front of a mirror that was the twice as tall as her and twice as wide. As she looked at her reflection, she was shocked. The first thing she noticed was the dress. It was beautiful. The bodice of the dress was tight fitting with a sweetheart neckline. It was covered in white roses which carried on over her shoulders and down to her shoulder blades. The skirt was made with uneven, flowing layers and was a sky blue. The front of it stopped just above her knees and the back just about reached the floor. On her feet were white stiletto heels with ribbons tied around her ankle. Her golden blonde hair was tied into a messy bun with plaits crossing in different directions. Two small strands were left out at the front to frame her face. Woven into the plaits were pieces of silver string and white petals. Her pale skin looked like it was made of porcelain by the makeup. Her lips were painted a pale pink with a single line of silver in the centre of her bottom lip. The eyeshadow was the same shade of blue as her dress which made her green eyes look even brighter. In the corner of her eyes was silver glitter. That same glitter was also sprinkled across her skin and sparkled when it hit the light. Around her neck was a simple silver chain with a few of the links a shade of dark blue. It had been a gift from her only friend other than Eden.

Diantha was relieved and surprised at how tame it all was compared to the type of fashion worn around the Capital. The only aspect she disliked was how innocent and fragile she looked. Although hight wasn’t an issue (she was above average without the heels), the makeup softened her usually sharp facial features and the dress highlighted her thin frame. It removed her small about of muscles and instead focused on her curves. However, she knew why it had been done like that. It made her appear less threatening and more approachable to those outside of the Capital walls. She looked more ‘normal’ to them, but still had a little of the Capital ‘flare’.

There was a knock on the door, and she was summoned to somewhere else. She thanked they stylists before being escorted. They walked through the back corridors of the mansion in the silence everyone seemed to adopt whilst she was around. She was taken to a room guarded by Peacekeepers and the doors were opened for her. Inside were a few men talking to each other in fancy suits. Stood at the back of the room, in front of the balcony doors looking down at the party below, was her father. Diantha place herself next to him, completely ignoring everyone else. She mirrored his position and looked outside rather than at him. In the garden below she watched as many people gathered around the steps leading up the front of the mansion waiting for the arrival of the Victors.

“Good evening father” she greeted.

“Is it?” he mused. “It had barely just begun. A lot can happen in a short space of time”. He was giving her one of his warnings. Tonight, was a test run before she was shown off to the public the following day. The purpose of her being there was to show her face, but not to reveal who she was. She had to prove herself.

Diantha watched as the crowds below started to cheer at the arrival of the guests of honour. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark made their way up the steps as people crowded around them to try and get a look. Performers did tricks with fire on the side-lines and the music increased in volume. She kept her eyes on them until they had disappeared into the building below.

“Remember, don’t tell anyone who you are. Just do as you have been instructed.”

“Yes father.”

Without another word to him or anyone else, Diantha turned and exited the room. She walked back the way she came, going over the things she needed to do in her head. Her father wanted her to speak to certain people, mainly officials from the districts, to gather information and to plant the idea of peace into their minds. Whatever happened, she couldn’t reveal her true identity. She had been given a new name and backstory. Once she got to the set of doors leading to the entranceway she stopped. Willing her heart to stop pounding, she took a deep breath. This was the make or break moment. There was no going back now.

Diantha opened the door and joined a group of people walking past to avoid looking out of place. She broke off once further inside and walked around the mansion. She was a little overwhelmed at the amount of people present. She had never spoken to more than half a dozen people at once. However, she managed to calm herself down and moved to locate the specific people she had to speak to. It wasn’t long until she found the first one; the Mayor of District Two. She slipped into the conversation with ease and started her so-called ‘mission’.

Similar conversations happened throughout the evening as she went down the list she had memorised. Several women had come up to her to complement her look which lead to more conversations. A few men had also tried to flirt with her, but she laughed it off and politely left them as quickly as she could. At one point she found herself actually enjoying it.

Eventually she made her way out to the garden, joined by some woman telling her all about some beauty trend which she couldn’t care less about. However, the woman’s passion for something so in sequential intrigued her. As they walked Diantha noticed the two Victors dancing a short distance away and she watched them. Moments later she saw a man who she knew was Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamemaker and who she had spoken to earlier and one of the few who knew her identity, ask to dance with Katniss. At this, Diantha decided to take the chance to talk to Peeta who was now stood to the side and looking a little lost. She dismissed herself from her current conversation and approached him. She put on a bright smile and made her voice excitable and bubbly.

“Hi! I’m sorry to disturb you but I wanted to congratulate you” she said. Peeta turned to face her and scanned her appearance.

“For what?” he asked.

“On winning the Games and also on your engagement”.

“Oh, um, thank you” he replied.

“I’m Dee, it’s a pleasure to meet you” she said as she held out her hand. He hesitated for a moment before shaking it. Although she couldn’t see him, she could feel her father’s eyes watching her from the window. “Would you care to dance?” she prompted, flashing him another innocent smile. She could tell that he still had his guard but, nonetheless, he agreed. She knew that he would.

The both walked over to the dancefloor and Diantha put her right hand in his and her left on his shoulder. She had no idea how to dance and it was obvious that he didn’t either, so they simply swayed to the music. She took a moment to check that no one was listening before her expression changed. She still smiled but her eyes darkened. Her voice went lower and lost its bubbly tone. Peeta noticed this change immediately and tensed.

“I presume that you are aware of what is happening in the districts?” she asked, repeating the same question her father had asked her and speaking just loud enough for him to hear.

“Of course I do” he replied copying Diantha’s tone.

“If anyone asks, I didn’t tell you what I’m about to say. We talked about how cute I find Katniss and your love story is. Ok?” Peeta nodded. “Snow is getting worried. They thought the rebellion would burn out and it is becoming a threat. I don’t know if you agree with the rebels and simply, I don’t care, but you two need to work harder and watch your backs. Snow is nowhere near happy” she finished as she saw Katniss approach them. She stepped back.

“Congratulations again!” she chirped putting on her innocent persona once again. She walked away leaving Peeta looking lost. Fireworks were set off in the sky behind her as she walked back into the mansion.


	4. The Return

The following day Diantha followed the same routine as she had done the previous day. It was the same early morning start, the same escort, the same styling team and so on. The only difference was that it took significantly less time to get prepared and it she was in a new location. This time she was in a television studio. Diantha used the time it took to get ready to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to do. In all honesty, she was terrified. Last night had been a walk in the park compared to this. In only one second her life would change, and she would be on everybody’s radar.

Goodbye privacy.

The reason it took considerably less time to get ready this time was because she didn’t need to be prepped to the extent that she had before because it was already done. Also, she was wearing the exact same thing she had worn to the party. It had been a sort of ‘test run’ so they knew what they were doing this time. Obviously it was all a part of her father’s plan. Even though Diantha hated it, even she had to admit that it was smart. Think about it. You had talked to a random girl at a party, probably after drinking some alcohol and with your guard down. Then you find out that she was the daughter of the President. It would make you worry because who knows what you said? Even if you didn’t say anything, the fear that you might have would be in the back of your mind. Additionally, it still portrayed her as innocent and, ironically, not a threat. She appeared to be on the people’s side.

When the final touches were completed, she was escorted down the winding corridors towards the stage. It was the exact same one used to the tribute interviews that they always conducted before the Hunger Games. She could hear the host, Caesar Flickerman, talking to an enthusiastic crowd. An older woman with an electronic clipboard attached a microphone to the front of her dress and briefed her on how it was going to work. She also put an earpiece into her ear.

“The crowds are going to be loud, so this’ll help you hear the questions” she said as if it was nothing.

Great. That made her feel so much better…

Before she could do anything else, Diantha was placed at the side of the stage to wait for her cue. From this point she could see the size of the crowd and there was a lot of people present. In her whole live she had spoken in front of half a dozen people at most. Now she had to speak in front of the several hundred people in the crowd along with the entire population of Panem who were watching from their homes. Even if they didn’t want to watch it, they had no choice. It was the only thing being televised. She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing as she heard Caesar’s voice turn to a more serious tone.

“Now, we haven’t seen our guest for almost fifteen years. The last time we saw her she was only a little girl. Unfortunately, we had to say goodbye to her for a little while”. He paused for dramatic effect before grinning and returning to his usual excitable demeanour.

“It’s time for use all to be reunited! With great pleasure I would like to re-introduce you all to the Capital’s daughter, Diantha Snow!”

As soon as her name left his mouth, she buried her nerves and stepped out into the blinding lights of the stage. When she did, she was greeted with a loud roar from the crowd. She smiled wide and waved as she walked across the stage. When she reached Caesar, he held out his arms and she embarrassed him. They both sat down into the chairs put out for them and waited for the cheering to die down. Diantha laughed as they carried on. She sat with her back straight and ankles crossed over each other. She rested her hands in her lap.

“Wow. Just wow” Caesar laughed too as the noise returned to a quieter level. “Look at you! You’re a young woman! It’s like you’re a completely different person now! How old were you when we last saw you? Three, four…?”

“I think it was about that age. It’s been a while” she giggled. Yes, she actually giggled. She cringed internally as she did it. Her voice adopted the bubbly and warm tone she told to use to get people to like her.

“How old are you now?”

“It’ll be my nineteenth birthday next month” she replied, and the audience gasped.

“Like I said, wow. Time sure does fly by doesn’t it. You’re making me feel old!”

“Trust me you don’t look it Caesar” He chuckled at this and all Diantha could think was how much of a suck-up she was being.

“You’re too kind. Your dress is beautiful I might just add. Although some people may find it familiar?”

“Aw thank you! First, I would like to thank the stylists who made it. It’s absolutely stunning! And yes, some people may recognise it. I wore it to the party last night at the President’s party”.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you were there? Did anyone know?” he asked acting as if he was shocked. He had evidently been told beforehand.

“Not many. I just wanted to meet new people who could get to know the real me. I wanted to make friends without them knowing who I was. People tend to change when they know who I am” she said with a hint of sadness. She sounded like a child but apparently it worked. The crowd were practically eating out of her hands.

The interview continued for quite some time. They talked about the things she had gotten up to whilst she was away which, in reality, wasn’t much other than school. However, she made some stuff up and Caesar caught her up on some of the things she had supposedly missed. She pretended to be interest despite knowing it all, it wasn’t as if she had been completely cut off from the world. She made jokes and laughed at the ones he told her. Some comments were made, a few sassy replies thrown in here and there. It was going very well until Caesar asked Diantha a question that caught her off guard.

“It was announced a few hours ago that very soon you’ll be visiting some of the districts. What are you most looking forward to on this trip?”

Was she? No-one had bothered to inform her of this. In her head she cursed her father for putting her on the spot like this. She scrambled to think of an answer which wouldn’t give away the fact that she had no prior knowledge of this.

“I’ve never had the chance to go outside of the Capital before. I think it would be nice to see the hard work the people in the districts do first-hand and thank people for what they have done in helping Panem prosper into what it is today”.

“Definitely and we look forward to hearing what you get up to. Now, unfortunately we have run out of time. I know, I know!” he started but had to stop as the audience let out a noise of disappointment. Caesar waved his hands as he addressed the audience before turning back to Diantha. “We could speak to you all night but alas we can’t”

“Hopefully we can do it again soon!”

“I do hope so. Is there anything you would like to say before you go?” Caesar asked. Diantha turned to face the camera directly and tried to look as sincere as she could.

“I would like to thank you all for all of the lovely support you have given to me today. It was a little nerve-wracking stepping back into the spotlight, but you have all made me feel right at home. I hope I can get to know you all again and for you to know me so we can all work together to make Panem a great place to live”.

“Thank you” Caesar said when she was finished. He held Diantha’s hand as the two of them rose from their seats. He held her hand up. “Everybody, Diantha Snow!”. She let go of his hand and bowed. As she walked off the stage she waved again as the audience cheered.

As soon as she stepped off the stage her smile immediately dropped and went blank. She walked down the corridor back to her dressing room alone with an air of calmness surrounding her. The only evidence of her anger was behind her eyes. She entered her room and as soon as everyone saw her expression, they all fell silent.

“Everyone except for Mahli, please leave the room” she ordered looking directly into the eyes of the said man, her voice showing no hint of emotion. The others quickly left the room and closed the door behind them.

Mahli was one of her father’s underlings and was one of the few whom had visited her over the years. Usually it was to pass on his messages. He was middle-aged with platinum blonde hair which was evidently dyed. He had dark skin and his facial features all looked fake. They probably were. Once he might have been considered an attractive man, but now it made him look mean. He was tall but large and although he claimed not to be intimidated by her, there was a hint of fear in his eyes. He was sat on an armchair placed near the back corner of the dressing room.

“What’s this about me going to visit the districts?” she asked keeping her voice eerily calm.

“President Snow decided that it would be a good idea” she stated authoritatively.

“And was anyone going to tell me?”

“The President wanted to see how you would react” he answered. Diantha closed her eyes as she stopped herself from losing her temper. When she opened them again, she moved to stand in front of Mahli. She leaned down so they were eye level.

“Next time you will tell me everything I need to know. I don’t like surprises. There won’t be any other chances after that” she sneered. His eyes widened and he gulped at her insinuating threat. He started to say something, but she held up a finger to stop him. She straightened herself up. “You can tell my father that I will go on two conditions. Firstly, my Avox will be the only one accompanying me. I don’t need anyone else. Secondly, I refuse to be escorted by Peacekeepers. If he wants me to continue his plan, which I assume is the purpose of this trip, it won’t work if I have a mini army following me around. Understood?”. He nodded.

“Now get out” she snapped.

He got up and shuffled out of the room. He looked like a dog running in fear with its tail in between his legs. He wasn’t intimidated? Yeah right.


	5. The Boy in the Square

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went back to edit this chapter and I realised that it's over 4,000 words... oops. I had originally meant for it to be spit into two but forgot when putting it on here. So enjoy this insanely long chapter!

Diantha sat at the back of the train watching the scenery go by as they sped through the outskirts of Panem. Her arms were resting on the windowsill crossed which her head resting on them. She watched as rivers, fields and forests flashed past her. After only having the Capital’s skyline to look at for several years, it was nice to see something different; something more natural. She wished she could stay on the train forever. It was like her own personal bubble where no-one told her what she could and couldn’t do. The train was her haven away from the watchful eye of the President as well as her new spotlight from his people. Alas, she knew that it would have to end.

The past week had been spend visiting a couple of the districts. Each time the train stopped she didn’t know where she was until she stepped off onto the platform. However, it wasn’t only a surprise to her, but the District’s people as well. Just like everything else, it was all a part of her father’s plan to maintain control.

The morning after her televised interview, the mayors of each District received a letter informing them that she would possibly be making a visit. She hadn’t visited every District, but the unpredictability of where she would turn up next kept them all alert. She could turn up at any point, or not at all. On the first day of her so-called ‘tour’, she went to District 1 and the following day she went to its neighbour; District 2. Both had welcomed her with open arms. They had enthusiastically taken her on tours and offered her feasts. This was something she had expected from these two due to their close relationship to the Capital. Two days later she had arrived at District 5, who’s Mayor was already waiting at the platform. Presumably they had seen the train coming in the distance and came to the conclusion that it was her. Trains weren’t particularly common so it was the only reason why one would turn up out of the blue. Still, he had been nervous when she greeted him. That visit had been a quieter affair. She simply sat and talked in the Mayor’s home. Not that she minded. She didn’t like to be around large crowds. The only common event in each of her visits was that she would take the Mayor aside and give them a warning from her father about the rebellion and what would happen if they weren’t able to keep it under control. It had been pre-written by the President himself and Diantha had memorised it soon after.

“My father is calling into question your loyalties towards himself and the Capital when it comes to your attitudes towards the so-called rebels. They are criminals who will be punished for betraying those who have so graciously provided them with protection and a place to live. I would like to remind you that failure to control this will result in him having no choice but to charge you for conspiring against the Capital. Personally, I suggest you do what you can do it doesn’t get to this point”.

In the evening she would leave after they had convinced her that they would do their best and that they would quell any idea of unrest. The train would then pull out of the station and head to the next destination where she would have to do it all over again. Her last visit had been three days ago, so she concluded that she was heading for one of the outer districts. This wasn’t how she wanted to spend her time, but at least she was getting to see the world. As far as she could remember, she hadn’t seen actual nature before. In the times when she was alone, she tried to remain optimistic and would tell herself that she was doing a good job.

Eventually she felt the train start to slow and she watched as the carriage went dark as they entered a tunnel. Just before they went into it she managed to catch a glimpse of the symbol. Even though it was only for a split second, she knew exactly where they were going.

District 12.

Of course. Her father wouldn’t send her on this ‘tour or peace’ without having her pay a visit to the root of his problem. He had sent her to ensure that they were staying in line. One of the workers on the train poked his head in the doorway of her carriage to inform her that whey would soon be arriving. She stood up form her seat and stretched her arms. One thing she did miss whilst on the train was fresh air.

Diantha made her way back to her quarters to finish getting herself dressed and put some makeup on. Once she had done, she stood in front of the body-length mirror to ensure that she looked presentable. It was nearing the winter months and it was gradually getting colder, so she dressed accordingly. She wore a simple white, knitted jumper dress which had a turtleneck. There were little bits of gold string woven into the fabric which glistened in the light. Underneath she wore a pair of tights which had been specially made to match her skin tone and were designed to keep her warm. On her feet she wore knee-length, brown suede boots. To provide her with even more protection against the cold she wore a coral pink coat which reached her calves. On her hands were a pair of white, fluffy gloves. Her blonde hair was left down for once and fell to her waist in waves. Her makeup was done to look natural. She used to never wear makeup, but now that she had become a public figure, it was almost a requirement. She had a makeup artist show her how to do the basics so she wouldn’t need to bring anyone with her on this journey. She had put on a blush pink eyeshadow and matching lipstick. The only thing that resembled the Capital’s dramatic style were the gold crystals placed in the corner of her eyes. Her style differentiated herself from the people in the Districts, but still made her appear approachable. Or at least that was what it was supposed to do.

As she was finishing off, Diantha’s Avox, Eden walked into the room. Eden’s appearance was the same as usual, but everything had changed from red to green. Even her hair had changed colour to a dark brown. Diantha looked her up and down and tutted. Turning to her closet she walked to her closet and pulled out one of her coats. It was black and puffy, and she held it out to Eden. The other looked back to her confused.

“So you don’t get cold” Diantha explained.

Eden looked reluctant and shook her head. Her eyes showing fear.

“I’m not letting you go out there like that. You’ll catch a cold or worse. Besides, if anyone says anything, they’ll have to answer to me” she pressed.

Eden took the coat out of the girl’s hand and, still unsure, put it on. Diantha approached her and zipped it up for her. She reached around and pulled her hair out of the tight bun. It fell just past her shoulders in curls. Diantha brushed her fingers through it to get rid of any knots. Satisfied, she looked up into her eyes (Eden was a few inches taller than her).

“Trust me” she said softly and smiled at her warmly. Eden took a deep breath and smiled back at her. The train finally came to a stop and they were granted permission to leave the train.

As soon as they stepped off from the strain, Diantha knew that something wasn’t right. There was absolutely nobody around. She wasn’t expecting the entire District to greet her, but it was strange that no-one was there to oversee a train from the Capital pull into the station. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Not to mention it was also eerily silent. The two walked in what they guessed was the direction of the Town Hall unsure of what was happening. As they got closer, they could hear shouting and the sound of cracking. Diantha turned to Eden with her eyes wide and she looked just as concerned. Just like that they were both running. They ran as fast as they could towards the source of the noise. Once she had entered the square with Eden a few strides behind her, she could see what was going on.

Tied to a post in the centre of the square was a young man covered in blood and on the floor next to him was the familiar face of Katniss Everdeen. Stood above them was a Peacekeeper with a whip in his hand and was covered in blood which wasn’t all his own. She instantly recognised the man as Romulus Thread. Diantha had crossed paths with him on several occasions and saying that they hated each other was putting it nicely. Thread had been in charge of teaching her self-defence for a short amount of time. He had taken great joy in it, especially the times he knocked her to the ground. In front of him stood Haymitch Abernathy and behind him was Peeta Mallark. The former appeared to be trying to defuse the situation, but Thread seemed more than willing to strike them all. Piecing the situation together, Diantha started to move forward but was pulled back by her arm by Eden. Detaching her arm from the other girl’s grip, she turned to her.

“Stay here” she ordered gently. Diantha then pushed her way to the front of the crowd and rand towards the group in the centre.

“Stop!” she shouted. Thread turned and raised his whip, but Diantha managed to grab onto this wrist just in time to prevent him from sticking her. She glared into his eyes, her shoulders straight back and her stance defensive. Her expression was angry and cold. “That’s enough” she growled and pushed him away.

Diantha moved to position herself in front of the others. The Peacekeeper’s expression was one full of range, especially as he realised who was challenging him. She had stopped him in front of the entire District as well as whoever else was watching.

“He attacked me and therefore has to be punished. The girl interrupted- “.

“And both have more than learnt their lessons. He may have deserved the flogging, but she didn’t. Even so, you have gone past the point of punishment and into pure torture”.

“But- “

“You will let them all go, dismiss everyone else and head back to your headquarters along with the rest of your Peacekeepers. You all seem to need a refresher on how to do your jobs” she ordered with her voice unwavering. He looked like he was going to argue again but before he could she stopped him. “Do you really want to argue with me?” she added. Diantha tried to not show the joy in rendering him powerless just like he used to do to her. Defeated and seething, he turned towards the crowd and shouted something about a new curfew being put into place. She turned to face the group behind her.

“You’re free to go” she said gently before collecting a bewildered Eden and following behind the group of Peacekeepers. She felt all eyes on them as she went.

Approximately an hour later, Diantha and Eden arrived at the Everdeen household in the Victor’s Village. The front door was wide open, but she still knocked the door. After all, it was rude to entre someone’s home without permission. She patiently waited at the door for a couple of minutes before a young girl with blonde hair (like her own) sped out from one of the back rooms. She recognised the girl as Katniss’ younger sister, Primrose. However, she had grown a lot since the last time she had seen her at the Reaping on the television. When Primrose noticed the two girls at the door she stopped in her tracks and scanned their appearance with some confusion. It took her a moment, but there was a flash of realisation in her eyes.

“What can I do for you/” she asked. Diantha took a small satchel from Eden’s shoulder, searched for something and when she found it, held it out to her.

“This might help him heal a little faster” she answered. Primrose took the jar from her hand and held it up to look at the label. When she read it, her eyes widened, and she gasped.

“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed.

“I can show you how to use it if you’d like?”

“Please!” she said and beckoned the two to follow her. Diantha removed her coat and handed it to Eden who had closed the front door.

She walked behind Primrose as they entered the kitchen were, laying on a table in the centre of the room, was the injured young man. He was asleep on his stomach and the extent of his injuries were now clear to see. The bleeding was stopped but he was still covered in a fair amount. Dark bruises were starting to form around the deep gashes in his skin. A few people surrounded him. Katniss sat in a wooden chair right at his side. Peeta and Haymitch were leaning against the wall and an older woman, who she suspected to be Katniss and Primrose’s mother, was sorting something on the kitchen counter. At their entrance they all looked up and three out of the four conscious occupants tensed as they saw who she was, although for different reasons. The adults knew who she was, but Peeta only knew her from the party. She knew this because Peeta only looked confused whilst the others adjusted their posture and refused to meet her eye. Katniss seemed too out of it to pay her much attention. Diantha simply nodded her head in greeting as she cleaned her hands and then stationed herself at Primrose’s side.

“You need to put ten millilitres of the liquid into a syringe” she instructed. The younger girl passed her a clean syringe and the jar. Carefully, she measured the liquid and brought it to eye-level. She tapped it twice to ensure there were no air pockets.

“Next, you need to find the nearest vain at the centre of the injury. Luckily he’s asleep so he won’t feel anything”.

Diantha reached out and ghosted her fingers along his skin. Even though he was unconscious, she still didn’t want to cause him any more discomfort. It was difficult to find a vain as he was dehydrated, but eventually he was able to find one. She pressed two fingers down onto his skin, cringing as he grimaced in his sleep. She placed the needle into his skin and interested two millilitres of the liquid.

“You need to insert two millilitres of it at a time and wait for at least fifteen seconds in between” she explained. “The body needs to get used t the medicine. Inserting too much too quickly might send him into shock”. As she explained, she showed Primrose what she was going. Once done, she placed her hand over the spot again and waited until she felt the boy’s skin start to heat up before removing it. His skin turned red and slowly started to spread across his back.

“His skin should turn red and heat up. That’s how you know it’s working. Keep doing it every five hours until his injuries heal. There should be enough in there to last at least a couple of days.”

Primrose’s eyes widened as she struggled to find the words to say. “Are you sure? I can’t just take it”.

“I’m more than sure. The only thing I ask in return is to not mention to anyone that you have it” Diantha gently reassured.

“What is that stuff?” Peeta asked from the other side of the room. She faced him and he still adorned a confused expression., but this time it was mixed with slight mistrust.

“Verleriwellia. It’s a very strong pain relive medicine” she explained. “It’s not something that people can come across easily, even in the Capital. That is why I’m asking you not to mention that I’ve given it to you”.

“It costs a ridiculous among of money that’s why” Haymich snidely commented. He locked eyes with Diantha only to look away again. “Sorry” he mumbled.

“Thank you so much” Katniss’ mother approached her. “Thank you for intervening earlier and thank you for the medicine. There’s no wat we can repay you”.

Diantha held the older woman’s hands (after washing the blood form her own). “There’s nothing to repay me for. I was only doing what was right. I just hope that he gets better soon” she said softly.

“When must you leave?” Mrs Everdeen asked.

“When it gets dark. Why?” she inquired.

“Let us at lease give you something to drink or eat before your journey”.

“I wouldn’t mind something to drink, thank you. And something for Eden as well please”. Diantha saw the expression in the woman’s eyes and couldn’t turn it all down and rush off. She had something else she wanted to do anyway.

Primrose led her into a living room and Diantha beckoned Eden from the hallway to join her on one of the four armchairs. Primrose, or Prim as she introduced herself as, talked with her about Capital medicine for a short while. Diantha didn’t know a huge amount but tried her best to answer any questions the young girl had. She was impressed by how mature the young girl was compared to the scared child shouting after her sister almost a year before. Mrs Everdeen came in with two mugs of hot tea. Eden took hers after looking at Diantha for permission.

“You’re fine” she whispered reassuringly. Eden then took a sip, her hands wrapped around the mug. Her face was slightly covered by the coat, which she still hadn’t taken off, but Diantha could see a small smile on her face. Mrs Everdeen and Prim left the room to get back to caring for the boy, whom Prim had informed her was called Gale.

“I didn’t know that you liked tea” she said snapped Eden from her thoughts. “I might need to get some when we get back”

“It’s nice” Eden signed. Or did it as well as she could with one hand.

“I know! I think I might develop a habit of losing mugs of tea. I’ll put them down, but they’ll end up disappearing” she said faking seriousness. However, as soon as she saw the grin on Eden’s face, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Thank you” Eden signed sincerely.

Diantha continued to tease Eden a little more until they were interrupted by a knock on the door. In the doorway stood Peeta with his hands fidgeting in his pockets. His face was emotionless, but he looked like he wanted to say something but was unsure on how to do so.

“Who are you?” he asked in an accusing tone.

“I suppose that you were on the train when I made my appearance” she said as he stood from her chair. She placed her now empty mug on the coffee table in the middle of the chairs and held out her hand. “My name is Diantha Snow”. As soon as she said her surname, she saw his demeanour change. His eyes darkened with anger and fear, but it didn’t faze her. She lowered her hand. “I knew that was going to happen” she mumbled.

“I’ve heard your name, but I didn’t know what you looked like” he replied bluntly.

“I can tell. I pose no threat though. My father and I don’t quite share the same opinion about Katniss and yourself. I asked you not to say anything about the medication, and I won’t say anything you may say. However, I hope that you will be willing to listen to me if you could put aside your hatred for a moment. I won’t bother Katniss; she seems a little preoccupied”.

Diantha directed Peeta to sit in the armchair opposite her, which he did, but he kept his expression the same. Eden was still sat in her chair sipping her tea and looking a little uncomfortable in the tense situation. She also wasn’t used to being allowed to act like a normal citizen in this kind of situation. Peeta glanced at her when he sat, and Eden tried her best to avoid eye-contact. His attention was drawn back to Diantha as she spoke.

“Do you remember what I told you at the party?”

“Yes”

“The situation hasn’t improved. People are still acting out against the Capital’s authority. Although the announcement of your engagement has been a hit with the people inside of the Capital, outside it hasn’t done that much. It was a valiant effort and all I ask is that the two of you put all your effort into making this wedding the best thing to every happen. You need to make sure that you make it believable”.

“What are you talking about? It’s not-“ he stumbled over his words flustered.

“Fake? I’m not blind Peeta”.

“How do you know? Everyone else seems to believe it”.

“I’m in a similar position” she sighed. “I’ve been kept out of the limelight for half of my life. My siblings have never really been prominent public figures either. But I’ve been forced back in it and it has become a huge spectacle which is something that none of them ever had to do. And at a time of unrest? It’s a distraction technique like what her father has made the two of you do. Why do you think I’m here Peeta? Don’t get me wrong, I love being out of the Capital. But I have had to spend the last week threatening the leaders of each district to ensure their alliance. We’re all pawns in Snow’s game”.

Diantha leaned forward and took Peeta’s hands in her own. He flinched but didn’t move them away. She looked directly into his eyes and let her guard down completely, exposing the sincerity and fear she was feeling.

“I beg of you, please convince him because you know that he will do whatever it takes to get rid of a threat. And that means getting rid of the both of you”.

Eden knocked on the coffee table to get Diantha’s attention and breaking the air of tension in the room. She turned her head towards the other girl who just pointed at the clock on the wall. It was time to leave. Diantha let go of Peeta’s hands as Eden left the room for a moment, shortly returning with her coat. She took it from her hands and replaced it with the two mugs.

“Can you take these back to Mrs Everdeen please?” she asked. Eden nodded and left the room. Diantha rose and Peeta did the same.

“She can’t talk?” Peeta asked to fill the silence.

“She’s an Avox” Diantha replied nonchalantly. Peeta was caught off guard.

“I thought she was a friend or something. I’ve never seen anyone treat an Avox as a human being”.

“She’s the closest I have to a friend. She’s been with me for years”. Diantha paused. “Please don’t tell anyone that”.

“I’ll add that to the list” Peeta commented which made Diantha chuckle. She turned to Peeta once again.

“Please be careful. I mean all of you” She sighed. “And I know it may be difficult, but please don’t hate me. I’m on your side” she added as she turned and made her way back into the kitchen. She poked her head in through the doorway.

“I have to leave but thank you so much for your hospitality. I spoke to the Peacekeepers and it’s safe to say that they won’t be repeating todays events again”. She turned to Katniss. “I hope he gets better soon”.

Thank you’s were said and then she went to the front door and to a waiting Eden. They were about to leave but stopped as her name was called.

“What do you think? About the possibility of an uprising?” Peeta asked.

“My opinion doesn’t matter”.


	6. The Failure

The Everdeen household still held a tense atmosphere, even after the front door had closed behind them. Peeta stood in the hallway for a little while longer as he processed the information he had been given. He had thought Katniss and himself had done more than enough to convince Panem that they were still the ‘star-crossed lovers’ they had been inside of the arena. They were engaged for God’s sake! However, Diantha’s words had planted a seed of doubt in his mind. Maybe they wouldn’t get through this alive after all.

Peeta turned when he heard someone join him in the hallway. He turned as Katniss walked over to him. She still looked exhausted and the area around her eye was completely swollen. Although she seemed a lot more aware than she had been since they had returned from the square a few hours before. The shock must have worn off. She checked that they had definitely left with confusion written all over her face.

“Who were they?” she asked.

“Diantha Snow” a voice answered from behind them. Haymitch stood leaning back against the doorframe with his arms crossed. The two men watched as Katniss’ eyes widened as the name sunk in.

“Snow? As in- “

“President Snow, yes. She’s his younger daughter”.

“And you let her into my house?” she asked and looked at the two men as if they were crazy. She was the daughter of their greatest enemy; the daughter of the man who wanted them dead. “She could be telling him everything as we speak!”

“She isn’t” Peeta reassured. He beckoned the two to the living room and to sit in the same place he had with Diantha only minutes before. He sat on one side with Katniss next to him. Haymitch was sat opposite them.

“She knows our relationship is fake” he continued. “Apparently the situation is getting worse. More and more people are rising against the Capital. She asked that we both put as much effort in the wedding preparation as possible so we can get out of this unscathed”.

“We already know that though” Haymitch stated.

“Diantha said that we had convinced the people inside the Capital. However, less people than we thought are buying it in the Districts. Snow isn’t happy at all”.

“How do you know we can trust her? She could be tricking us” Katniss argued.

“She’s not. Snow’s making her do the same type of thing” Before either of the others could interrupt, he continued. “Look at the timing. She’s been presented to the public now of all times. She told me she didn’t want to, but Snow gave her no choice and wants to use her as another distraction technique. Also, she helped Gale when she could have just stood and watched”.

“That still doesn’t prove that she’s not tricking us”.

“She gave Prim the medicine for Gale that she could get in serious trouble for”.

“It’s true” Haymitch cut in. “That stuff is incredibly hard to come by and only the elite members of the Capital are allowed it. Sponsors always refuse to buy it for the games”.

That still doesn’t prove anything” Katniss snapped.

“You didn’t see her when she was talking to me. She was genuine. I could see it in her eyes. She practically begged me to get through this. She said the same thing to me during the party at the end of the Victory Tour”.

“Wait, you’ve met her before? Why didn’t you say anything?” Haymitch questioned him.

“I didn’t know who she was. But it doesn’t matter. She risked speaking to me so close to Snow. Plus, didn’t she seem different from everyone we’ve met on Snow’s side? She doesn’t seem the type to betray us. Also, that girl she was with. She was her _Avox._ We didn’t even acknowledge them when we were in the Capital”.

“Fine. I still don’t trust her completely, but she could be valuable”.

“Did she say anything else?” Katniss asked.

“Something big is about to happen”.

Alone in her apartment, Diantha sat on the windowsill, watching the unusually quiet streets of the Capital down below. In the background her television was on. Almost everyone in Panem would be watching it with baited breaths as they would find out what horror would lie before them or their loved ones. Or, if they were from the Capital, how much fun the next Hunger Games would be. On the screen was her father giving a speech about the uprising and the upcoming Quarter Quell. She wasn’t looking at the screen, but she could see the joyful gleam in his eyes. He droned on and on about the prosperity of the Capital and its districts; about how important it was to work together. Finally, she could hear him open the envelope and announced what would be so special about this particular Games.

"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol…”

He paused and Diantha knew what was coming. She looked at the screen as he continued.

“…the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Diantha felt sick and the world around her started to spin. Her father’s voice went all muffled as she tried to process what was happening. This wasn’t a coincidence. Her father had tampered with the envelopes.

Her warnings had been for nothing.

Her risks had been for nothing.

Katniss would have no choice to be a tribute as she was the only female victor in District 12. Peeta wouldn’t allow Haymitch to go, so there was no doubt that he would have to fight again. Only one of them would come out alive this time, if either of them did at all.

Another thought entered her mind. If this was their punishment, what lied ahead for her. Would her fate be death as well? Or would her father do something far worse. There was no doubt in her mind that he wouldn’t let her live as she had. She had been shoved back into the spotlight for a reason. She had one job and she didn’t do it.

‘I need water’ she thought as she felt her chest contract. It was becoming hard to breathe and her throat was unbearably dry. She stumbled to the sink and filled an empty glass with water. She gulped it like she hadn’t had a drunk in days. Her hearth was racing. Her hands were shaking.

Her father’s voice droned on in the background and she walked towards her television, still unsteady on her feet. She leaned on the back of her sofa as she looked at his face on the large screen. He was smiling; proud. She hated him. Without thinking, she screamed and threw a glass at the screen. It smashed into tiny little pieces onto the rug. She fell to her knees and hot tears flowed down her face.

She had failed.


	7. The Chosen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a bit of a filler chapter and I'll probably end up rewriting it, but it's fine for now. Also, I've gone through the chapters I've already published and made some adjustments. Nothing has changed plot-wise. I've just changed the wording and a few minor details. I've also changed one or two chapter titles.

These days Diantha spent most of her time glued to the television. At any mention of this year’s Games she would be there watching and hanging off every word. It was like an addiction, but she felt the overwhelming need to know everything about it. She had to know if there was a way she could help.   
Diantha had changed a lot over the weeks since the Quarter Quell was announced. The days immediately following it, she had completely shut down. She had refused to eat and would barely move. It was only after she saw the concern behind Eden’s eyes and her encouragement that she didn’t want anyone to see her like that, did she finally start to return to her usual self. Eden still gave her worried glances every now and again when she thought she wasn’t looking. She also offered the younger girl support when they were out of sight of the cameras. Countless nights went by where Eden had held Diantha as she cried. She tried to explain why she was so affected but wasn’t sure how to put it into words. It was shock which had mostly passed. Still, even now there were dark circles underneath her eyes from the lack of sleep. She tried. God, she had tried. However, every time she put her head to the pillow her mind was filled with questions and concerns she just couldn’t get rid of. Paranoia also consumed her. There had been no repercussions of her actions. Something would happen to her, that she was certain of. It was just the case of when.   
A few people had visited her since she had returned. It had mostly been government officials whom she had briefed on what she had been told by the Mayors of the Districts she had visited. Mahli also paid her a visit with a message from her father. Apparently, he initially wasn’t too impressed by her actions inside District 12. Although he had changed his mind when he realised how good of a thing it was. It showed that, despite her status, she would stand up for normal citizens. It also made her more trustworthy in the eyes of Katniss and Peeta which would also work in his favour. However, Mahli warned, something like that wouldn’t be tolerated if it ever happened again. People also stopped by to clean the glass from when she smashed the television screen and, a few hours later, replaced it with a brand new one. Her father wanted her to have a television so she could keep up to date of the upcoming events; what she had failed to prevent.   
After that no-one else had stepped foot into her apartment except for Eden. It also meant that she was given no new information. She had hoped that she would have been given inside knowledge, but no. She was being treated like a normal citizen on that front. Diantha knew that she was purposely being kept in the dark. It was her own personal hell.   
The television screen showed highlights from previous games. It was the day of the Reaping and Diantha suspected that there would be a tense atmosphere throughout Panem, more so than usual. The people in the Districts were probably relieved that themselves or their family wouldn’t be picked this year, but conflicted because those who had already dealt with the trauma of the Games would have to do it all over again. Here in the Capital they would all be excited for how entertaining it would all be but upset as those they had grown to love would be chosen again. All of the scenes on the screen were of important moments in the Victors respective Games. Diantha watched carefully taking in as much information as she could. She watched the way they fought and how they acted around those they called their allies. Although, she knew that doing this was pointless. Most of them wouldn’t be Reaped and if they were, they would be completely different from their time in the arena.   
The programme suddenly ended, and the screen changed to an image of the symbol of the Capital and the anthem was played. The Reaping was about to begin. Diantha adjusted her sitting position to get more comfortable. She crossed her legs and rested her elbows on her knees. She placed her head in her hands. She hadn’t this awake and focused in a while. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen as the announcer explained how this year’s Reaping would work. She, along with everyone else in Panem, already knew this information but that still felt the need to. Diantha hadn’t been able to get them out of her head.   
The image switched to the live coverage in District 1 and their eccentric escort gave a little speech. After she had finished, she put her hands in each bowl and read out the names of the chosen Victors respectively. When their names were called, Cashmere and Gloss walked to the centre of the stage. The siblings that the Capital loved so dearly were the first to be picked. This made Diantha smirk. That would with no doubt cause a reaction. Straight after the image changed to District 2 were Enorbaria and Brutus had been the next two to be picked. They both seemed extremely enthusiastic to be going back into the arena. The former grinned widely baring her fangs. She looked terrifying. The Career tributes were usually a strong group, but this group was stronger than usual. They were mostly still fairly young and were still incredibly fit and strong. They would be very difficult to kill. This wiped the smirk from Diantha’s smirk.   
Wiress and Beetee were chosen from District 3. Both weren’t physically strong, but from what Diantha had heard, they were both intelligent. There was a strong likelihood that they wouldn’t survive, but they would be valuable allies.   
When the cameras turned over to District 4, Diantha felt her stomach do a flip. She could feel her heart thumping against her chest, but still she refused to look away. The escort walked over to the bowl filled with the female Victor’s names and pulled out a piece of paper. In a loud voice she announced the name. 

“Annie Cresta!” 

As soon as her name was called, the said young woman burst into tears. An older woman immediately put her hand up to signal that she would take her place. She seemed like a motherly woman and, although Diantha knew she wouldn’t make it out alive, hoped that she would at least get a peaceful death. All of the other Victors looked shocked as she made her way to the front of the stage. She had probably mentored most of them and they had come to the same conclusion Diantha had. Soon after the escort made her way to the male Victor’s bowl. She picked out another piece of paper and, in the same commanding voice, shouted once again. 

“Finnick O’dair!”

Diantha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could practically hear every woman (and some men) cry out as he took his place next to Mags. He didn’t show any dismay at being chosen, but others did. He was extremely popular, and she knew that many would be outraged at this. However, he was strong. Maybe he would make it to the other side.   
The Victors from the next two districts seemed like no threat at all, especially the two chosen from District 6. They looked like they could barely stand up. They were dangerously thin, and their eyes were glazed over. They were addicts. In District 7, Johanna Mason did not look at all impressed at her name being called. She scowled even after her partner, Blight, was called. Diantha felt a pang in her chest during the Reaping in District 8 when the female Victor Cecelia was chosen. Her three children clung onto her and had to be torn away from her. She exchanged a sad glace with Woof as they were presented to the crowd. The next two Districts were also no threat. In District 11, two older Victors called Seeder and Chaff were chosen. The former seemed strong despite winning her games a long time ago but the male tribute she had seen had turned to alcoholism to cope. He still seemed a relatively happy when he was shown on television in the past. He had lost a hand though and without a prosthetic, the arena would be no easy feat.   
Finally, the familiar town square of District 12 was shown on the screen. Only four figures stood on the stage. Effie Trinket appeared to have lost her usual spark, but still adorned a smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes. She pulled out a single piece of paper from the bowl of female names and her voice cracked as she announced the name everyone knew would be written on there. 

“Katniss Everdeen!”

With her face snowing no grief, Katniss stepped forward in silence. She looked strong but Diantha knew how much she was hurting inside. All this was orchestrated to dispose of her, and she knew it. Effie picked up a piece of paper from the bowl of male names. Diantha prayed that Peeta’s name would be called. It would be the only way to save him. Her heart sped up and she whispered the word ‘please’ repeatedly until the name was called. 

“Haymitch Abernathy!”

“I volunteer!”

Diantha held her had in her hands unable to watch any longer. She didn’t care about hiding her emotions from the people monitoring her reaction on the cameras. Snow had won. He had them both. This time only one would emerge, if at all.   
She sat in the same position for some time with the television droning in the background. When the Reaping had finished, they went on to show more highlights. Only this time it was of the Victors who had been chosen. Without a word Diantha went and picked up a pencil and notebook. It was time to get to work.


	8. The Parade

Despite her newfound hatred of crowds, Diantha always seemed to find herself in one lately. People buzzed around the chariots preparing for the Tribute Parade which would start shortly. Victors saw this as an opportunity to catch up with friends and scope out any potential allies. They were all dressed in costumes related to their Districts. All of them were extravagant and captivating, but one or two were rather questionable.

Diantha was stood at the rear of the room and no-one paid her any attention. They probably didn’t even notice her presence, despite being all dressed in white. The dress she was wearing was white and stopped just above her knee. The front of the dress was a halter neck with silver crystals twisting along the fabric around her neck. These continued down the front to her waist and connected to the back was a trail which swept along the floor when she walked. The crystals continued down them, becoming sparser the closer they got to the end. It had no sleeves and she wore no jewellery. Her nails had been painted silver with a crystal on the top corner of the nails on her thumbs. On her feet she wore white stilettos which tied around her ankles. Resting on the top of her head was a crown of white roses with silver stems connecting them. Her makeup consisted of glittering silver and dark gravy smoky eyeshadow with white eyeliner which flicked in the outer corners. She wore silver lipstick and the colours made her appear paler than she usually was. It was the most Capitol-like Diantha had ever looked. It was a complete contrast to her usual appearance. Maybe, she thought, it was a reminder that although she was on the citizen’s side, ultimately she was a high-class member of Capitol society.

Her green eyes scanned each face in the room as they did their final preparations. Diantha didn’t want to be here, but her father wanted her to have one more push before they all entered the arena. She headed towards the chariot furthest from her where a small group had formed. As she got closer, she noticed Haymitch and Peeta talking to the Victors from District 11 whilst Finnick O’dair was busy giving Katniss a smirk he usually reserved for when he was flirting. From the expression on her face she was having none of it.

“Why hello Princess, would you like a sugar cube?” Finnick asked her with the same grin, completely unfazed by her presence.

“Aren’t those supposed to be for the horses?”

“They don’t need all of them” he replied.

“Fine, but there better not be any horse spit on this” Diantha said talking it out of his hand and popped it in her mouth. She felt it melt on her tongue and grimaced. “How can you possibly eat that? It’s gross!” Finnick burst into laughter before putting a sugar cube in his own mouth. Diantha then took in his costume.

“Where’s the rest of your outfit?”

“I’m giving the people what they want” he teased. He was called by someone on his team and walked off laughing again leaving Diantha alone with Katniss.

“How’s Gale?” Diantha asked.

“Better” she replied bluntly.

“I’m glad. Thank you for not telling anyone about the medicine.”

“It’s ok.”

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” Katniss looked as if she was trying to find the right words to say. However, she was saved by Peeta and Haymitch joining them.

“Wow you look different” Peeta teased.

“I know. We’re dress the complete opposite. I would have said that it was done on purpose, but there’s no way Cilla would have told anyone what he designed. You guys look amazing by the way”

“Thanks. You do too” Katniss replied out of courtesy.

“I’m sorry you have to do all this again” Diantha sighed.

“It’s not your fault” Peeta reassured.

“I can’t stay, but here” she said as she handed a folded piece of paper to Haymitch. “Don’t open it until you’re alone” she warned. She then turned to Peeta and Katniss. “I wish you two all the luck in the world. I’ll do my best to help you”.

Diantha gave them the most reassuring smile she could before she turned and rushed to the elevator. She pressed the button and as soon as the doors closed, she let out a sigh of relief. It was nice and quiet again. When the doors opened, she nodded her head at Mahli who was waiting for her. They adopted a fast pace as they walked down the long hallway of the building lining the left of the parade. They didn’t have much time to get to the other end before it started. Diantha walked in silence whilst Mahli, dressed in a black suit and his hair gelled back, droned on about something she couldn’t care less about. She thought it was something to do with his shoes but as soon as he opened his mouth, he had stopped listening. She just focused on the sound of her heels echoing in the empty corridor as she walked.

They reached the end of the corridor and entered another elevator. They travelled up the several story building quickly. Without waiting for Mahli, she opened the door leading to the balcony which would overlook the parade. He had shut up by this point anyway. Diantha took her place to the left of her father’s chair. It was very high and whilst most people may have felt it jarring, Diantha was used to it. Her apartment was at the top of one of the highest buildings in the Capitol after all.

Diantha rested her arm on the back corner of her father’s chair. Then she noticed that everyone, including him, was wearing black. It made her stand out even more. It looked like she was the angel on her father’s shoulder. Maybe she was. A minute or two passed and he hadn’t acknowledged her presence. She wasn’t sure if he had noticed her presence until he spoke just loud enough for only her to hear.

“Did you give it to them?” he said just loud enough for her to hear.

“Yes father” she replied without looking at him. He didn’t reply but nodded his head.

Without exchanging any words, the anthem started to play, and the first chariot appeared. However, Diantha didn’t watch. Instead she observed her father’s reaction in the corner of her eye. She wanted to see if it changed at all, if she could work out what he was planning.

Every time a new chariot emerged; she could hear the crowd go while. The screamed as they saw their favourite Victors. Some where louder than others. Even so, everyone on the balcony was silent and stoic. There were no smiles or cheering, they only held a professional pretence. When the cheering got louder all of a sudden, she noticed her father slightly adjust himself. It was small, but she caught it. She finally looked down below and saw Katniss and Peeta who adopted the same serious expression as them. They looked like they thought the whole thing was beneath them. They didn’t even register the President’s presence as they rode up front. Still, Diantha gave them a small nod as they went past.

Seemingly as quickly as it had started it had ended. Diantha waited for her father to leave but when he got to the door, he faced her, holding out his arm.

“Walk with me” he beckoned. Diantha did what she was told and took his arm and they walked back into the empty building.

In the early hours of the morning, Haymitch sat on his bed in the tribute centre. The others had all gone to sleep a while ago, but he couldn’t. He sat on the edge reading the scrawl on the piece of paper he had been given earlier. He had read it a number of times but didn’t really understand it. With a sigh he walked to his bathroom. He ripped up the pieces of paper into tiny pieces and dropped them into the toilet. He flushed it watching it all disappear down the drain. He decided that it would be an issue for the morning; for when he was sober. Flicking off the light he collapsed on the bed without even pulling up the covers. The words on the note the only thing in his mind.

‘ _Look for the black mask to save the lambs from the slaughter’._


	9. The Garden

When her father had asked Diantha to join him, she was sure that it would only result in bad news. The two only spoke when he felt it was necessary and if there was something he wanted to do. These days they had done so far more often than they usually did. The entire journey since the parade had finished, he had talked about menial things; stuff like the weather, what she had been doing and so on. It was the kind of things fathers and daughters usually talked about. However, this was far from the usual and, despite doing a pretty good job at hiding it, she was on edge the entire time. It didn’t help when the car stopped in front of his home and he made her follow him inside.

However, contrary to her concerns, Diantha was stood in his garden. It was full of rows of white rose bushes. There were so many that she thought she’d be camouflaged by them. It was the first time he had brought her there. Although, her father still hadn’t offered an explanation as to why he had done so. Even so, she felt a little more relaxed. They were away from the public and being out in the fresh air, surrounded by nature wasn’t something she was allowed to do all that often. As her fingers gently traced the beautiful white petals, she felt the breeze on her face. She treated every time she was outside as if it was her last. There was no telling when the next time would be, if there was even a next time. Her father had the power to take it away from her with a single word.

Her father observed her as she strolled through the garden. She was used to his gaze by now so, although a little bit uncomfortable, carried on as normal. He sat on a glass chair next to a matching table. Another chair was placed opposite. It was quiet. Although the Capitol was always noisy, the garden seemed to be in its own little bubble. The only other noise was from the breeze and a few crickets. If they were real, muttations or just sounds being played for ambience, she did not know. Being surrounded by silence was something the two of them preferred. It was one of the few similarities between them. It was peaceful. Her father coughed once to get her attention. She turned around to face him placing her arms in the small of her back.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful” she answered looking at the roses which surrounded her.

“I meant the Quarter Quell” he corrected, his eyes narrowing as he analysed her face.

“It’s interesting…”

“Interesting?”

“I just don’t understand” she sighed. He gave her a look which told her to continue. “It’s stated in the rules that once a tribute had won their respective Hunger Games that they wouldn’t have to enter the arena again”.

“Sometimes rules change, and you know that the Quarter Quell disregards the norm of the Games” he spoke as if it was obvious. Diantha opened her mouth to say something but stopped. He noticed this. “Speak freely” he encouraged, gesturing his hand for her to sit on the seat opposite him.

“Doesn’t it go against your plan to keep the Districts loyal to the Capitol?” she asked reluctantly, unsure as to how he would react. “It kind of suggests that the Capitol doesn’t stick to its promises and that’s something we can’t afford at the moment”.

“You make a good point. However, just as I said, the Quarter Quell is different. They’ll understand. It was something that needed to be done anyway”.

“What do you mean?” Diantha looked at him quizzingly despite knowing exactly what he meant.

“Certain threats need to be removed” he answered before changing the subject. “From tomorrow your room shall be unlocked. You will be free to come and go as you please. Just ensure that if you leave the building you have an escort”.

“Really?” she exclaimed, momentarily dropping her guard. She collected herself before she got carried away. Inside she was buzzing. She had never been allowed to leave her apartment on her own intuition before.

“Really. However, you are forbidden to interact with any of the tributes. Do you understand?”

“Of course, father”

“As if on cue, the doors at the garden’s entrance were opened by the Peacekeeper who was stationed inside to keep guard. Behind him emerged a larger, older man with light blonde hair which was swept over his forehead. He held himself confidently, even in front of the most powerful man in Panem. He greeted her father just like he was an old friend and shook his hand as he rose from his chair. Diantha stayed seated.

“President Snow! The Games have finally begun!” he exclaimed with excitement.

“They sure have. Are all the preparations complete?”

“Almost. We’re just adding the final touches. It’s going to be an interesting one this year” he smirked and turned towards Diantha.

“It’s nice to meet you again Diantha and as yourself this time. You look beautiful” he added taking her hand and kissing it lightly.

“Thank you, Plutarch” she replied politely. Internally she resisted the urge to wipe her hand. Why people did that as a greeting she did not know. As she stood up, Snow faced her as well.

“Tomorrow you will be going to assist Plutarch on my behalf and made sure that everything is prepared”.

There it was. The thing she had been waiting for. Although her face remained emotionless, her stomach dropped. She would have to help devise whatever horrors the Victors would have to face. Her own personal torture. How fun.

“That means you’ll be stuck with me tomorrow” Plutarch grinned seemingly unaware of how horrible that idea sounded.

“I’m more than happy to help” she simply replied.

“Good”.

The next morning Diantha woke up when the light through her window got too bright. She rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the sun blaring through. It was a beautiful and sunny outside. A lovely day to decide how the people she had failed to help would die.

Still half asleep she changed out of her pyjamas and into a pale blue blouse with a white bow tied at the nape of her neck. The necklace she usually wore was tucked inside out of sight. The sleeves were lace and puffed at the shoulders, tightening at her wrists. She also wore a white A-line skirt which stopped at her mid-thighs. Diantha wore the same boots she had worn whilst visiting District 12. Luckily, they weren’t covered in the dirt that covered the District. Her makeup was basic, just a little baby-blue eyeshadow and dark blue eyeliner. Her hair was still straight from the evening before, so she only brushed through it gently to get rid of any knots.

Walking down the stairs and into the living room, Diantha realised how quiet it was. She canned the room and couldn’t see any sign of Eden. She hadn’t woken Eden up, but that wasn’t out of character. If Diantha was already awake she didn’t need to. However, Eden would always be somewhere in her apartment whether she was working or standing somewhere off to the side. The only sigh that she had even been there was a bowl of cereal and an apple placed on the small dining table. Diantha sat and ate whilst thinking. Where could she possibly be?

Twenty minutes later, after Diantha placed the dirty bowl in the sink, she glanced at the clock. It was almost half eight. So she put on a long white coat and a matching beret. Then, for the first time ever, she walked out the door to her apartment on her own. Not before picking up the key she had been given and safely securing them in her coat pocket. Letting the door close automatically lock behind her, she felt a strange sense of freedom. Yes, she had been out of her apartment a lot more often lately, it had always been alongside a few Peacekeepers who were armed with guns. It was never on her own. Her apartment was the only one on her floor at the very top of the building. There were two elevators. One which was used to access the other floors and one which was her private elevator. It was put in place so no-one would see her enter and exit the building and very few people knew of its existence. The former elevator required a special key to get to her floor. Although she now had that key, she had been told to only use that elevator when necessary. Therefore, she walked to her private one. When the doors opened, she entered and pressed the button to go the bottom floor. She spent the entire ride down trying to hide the giddy feeling inside her. It felt like she was doing something she wasn’t allowed to.

Outside the building, parked next to the sidewalk was the black car she usually was taken around in. Once inside two thoughts entered her mind. Diantha felt the excitement be replaced with dread.

Where was Eden and what torture would Diantha be forced to put into place?


	10. The Gamemakers

The Gamemaker’s control room was a large, brightly lit circular room. Holographic screens covered every inch of the white walls which displayed information, pictures and diagrams. In the centre of the room was a white round table with a holographic screen on top. Sat on raised rows around the table were the Gamemakers dressed in white suits (obviously a running theme) quickly typing away or moving things around on the screen, sending it off the centre table screen. It would position itself automatically in the circle and remain. Trees would appear randomly. It would likely become the layout of the arena, but at the moment there was nothing that would give much of its design away.   
After taking in her surroundings, Diantha gingerly walked into the room. None of the Gamemakers seemed to notice her presence. Her footsteps were drowned out due to the series of beeps from the machines and the chatter. Although, with only a couple of days until the Hunger Games kicked off, they were very busy with the final preparations. Her eyes were glued to the screen on the wall nearest to her as she walked further into the room. She could see the text clearer. Pictures of the Victors were alongside lists of their strengths and weaknesses as well as their kill counts. However, she didn’t have much time to take it all in though as her name was called. 

“Diantha! I’m go glad you could make it!” Plutarch called as he appeared around a corner. He was dressed in an all-black suit which made him stand out against the room and his subordinates. 

“Thank you for having me” she replied. Not that she actually had a choice. 

“What do you think?” he asked gesturing to the room around them, his arms wide. 

“It’s impressive” she answered truthfully. “A part of me expected it to be a dark underground lair”. This made him chuckle. 

“Thankfully it’s not. Would you like me to show you around?”

“If you wouldn’t mind”.

Plutarch introduced her to each of the Gamemakers individually. They had all stopped working since they realised that she was there but got straight back to work unless she was talking to them. They had appeared shocked at her presence initially. It was obvious that they hadn’t been told that she would be coming. When she approached, each Gamemaker shook her hand with enthusiasm as they introduced themselves, talking briefly about what they were working on, only to resume working when she moved to the next. After speaking to everyone, Plutarch excused himself to go watch the Victor’s training session for a bit. He left her in the hands of a female Gamemaker who was more than happy to take on the responsibility.   
The woman, Rita, was considerably older than most of the other Gamemakers in the room. Her hair was slicked back and jet black with strands of grey which most Capitol would cover up. However, she wore it with pride. Her skin was dark, and she had a few wrinkles. She had a larger build and although she acted serious whilst she was working, she was bubbly and had a sparkle in her eye when she spoke about her work. It was hard to believe that she was talking about designing something to kill people.   
Rita’s primary role was designing some of the muttations for the arena. She showed Diantha the large orange monkeys she had created which would attack at the smallest threat. Rita explained the process of designing them in great detail and Diantha nodded her head as she spoke. The mechanics of it all was interesting. The ability for an idea could be formulated into a living thing with a click of a button was fascinating. If they weren’t a major threat to the people she knew, Diantha would have found it impressive. Rita asked her if she had any ideas to improve the monkeys and if she had any other suggestions which Diantha tried to make as generalised as possible, suggesting to maybe make their eyes glow-in-the-dark. She proposed it to make them seem more terrifying, but it was actually to give the Victors more warning that they were there. She hoped that it wouldn’t be used.   
A few hours passed by before Diantha felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She looked up to see that Plutarch had returned. He had a grin on his face as per usual. 

“If I’m not disturbing anything, I was wondering if I could have a word with you somewhere a little more private?” he asked. 

“Of course!” she replied standing up. She turned to Rita and held out her hand. “Thank you for explaining everything to me. It was very interesting.”

“No, no, no” Rita said shaking her hand with enthusiasm. “It was all my pleasure!”

Plutarch held out his arm which Diantha linked hers with and allowed him to lead her to a room just off to the side of the main control room. It was a lot smaller than the first but was still completely white. There were a couple of screens in there as well which turned on at their entrance. There wasn’t a door to separate the two rooms, but it was far enough away that they would be unlikely to be overheard. The other Gamemakers were so busy that they wouldn’t pay attention to them anyway. 

“How are the tributes getting along with their training?” Diantha asked. 

“Haven’t you spoken to them?” Plutarch asked genuinely surprised. 

“No. I’m separating myself from them from now on. Not that I spoke to them a lot in the first place”.

“They’re impressive. A lot of them still have the same skillset and strength they had the first time around” he said. Diantha already knew this but it still filled her with dread.

Silence fell between the two as Plutarch let her arm go and proceeded to do press some buttons on one of the screens. There were a few beeps and a map of the arena flashed across the screen. Diantha’s eyes widened as she analysed the map. The Cornucopia was in the centre of the map as per usual, but it was to be surrounded by water. The rest of the arena looked to be a forest. Along the side of the maps were times and a list of different events. One of which was Rita’s muttations. The map didn’t have much detail so she couldn’t decipher much more, but it was enough. 

“No. At least I don’t think so. I’ve seen people swim on television, but I’ve never tried it. I doubt many people from the Capitol can. Or most of the Districts actually” she admitted. She hoped the Victors could though. Plutarch hummed at her answer. 

“Can you fight?”

“A little” she replied analysing Plutarch’s face as she spoke. He still adorned his usual grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was subtle and most people wouldn’t be able to tell. However, Diantha could see it clearly. She recognised it as the same expression she wore whenever she had to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. The same expression she wore the majority of the time. 

“Then, using your knowledge and what you’ve learnt today, can you see any issue with the arena?” he enquired whilst gesturing to the screen. Diantha clicked some buttons to zoom in to get a better look. There wasn’t much to go on, but she didn’t notice anything. 

“I can’t see anything in particular that would cause an issue. Everything looks alright to me”

“Good” he said. However, his tone of voice suggested something else. What though, she couldn’t tell. “What do you think about this Quarter Quell?” he asked changing the topic. 

“My opinion doesn’t matter” she stated giving the same answer she usually did when asked a similar question. 

“But it does Diantha.”

“I don’t necessarily agree. It goes against the rules. However, there’s nothing I can do to change it” she sighed. 

“Would you mind indulging me for a bit?” 

Half an hour later the two emerged from the side room. Plutarch escorted her to the entrance and the Gamemakers watched her as she went. She turned to them and smiled. 

“Thank you for allowing me to observe your work and I hope the Quell goes well for you!”. 

After a chorus of thanks, she said her goodbyes to Plutarch and turned to leave. However, before she could go through the doors, she felt a hand on his shoulder. She turned to see Plutarch dropped his usual ‘cheery’ demeanour. His eyes looked into hers with deep intensity.

“Make sure you keep your guard up. There are people watching your every move”. 

Twenty minutes later Diantha walked through her front door with her mind spinning. Plutarch’s warning kept on echoing in her head along with the conversation the two of them shared. It was more information to remember. Lately it felt as if her brain would burst. But she had to carry on as usual. There was no other choice.   
Diantha shrugged off her coat and placed her keys back onto the newly fitted hook. Her head snapped to the kitchen when she heard someone was in there. Eden was bustling around doing her job. Diantha stopped herself from acting surprised and nonchalantly walked further into the room. 

“Put this back in my wardrobe” she ordered emotionlessly as she threw the coat on the back of the sofa. She didn’t look at Eden as she picked up the coat and disappeared upstairs. Diantha gave her a minute or so before following. She closed her bedroom door behind her. 

“Where were you this morning?” she whispered, but Eden didn’t respond. “Eden?” Still nothing. Diantha walked up to her, put her hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face her. Eden’s eyes went wide with surprise. 

“Did they hurt you?” Diantha asked with concern lacing her voice. Eden shook her head. 

“Are you ok?” She nodded her head.

“Where were you then?” 

‘I can’t tell you’ Eden signed. 

“Why not?”

‘I just can’t’. 

Diantha pulled the older girl into a hug. She could feel Eden’s breath hitch. Diantha hadn’t hugged her before but she held her tightly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen and I can’t lose you. Promise me you’ll be careful ok?”.

Eden hugged her back, the two in silence. Then Diantha could feel Eden writing on her back with her finger. 

‘I promise’


	11. The Defiance

It was nothing more than a display of solidarity.  
The Victors stood along the back of the stage as one. They held hands with each other with their arms raised high. Despite Caesar’s best efforts, he looked lost for the first time in his career. The cries coming from the audience demanding to stop the games rung clear through the television screen. This reaction was likely reflected throughout the entirety of Panem. If only it was that easy to bring it to an end.  
Diantha was once again in the Gamemaker’s control room. The main room was abuzz as they worked on the final preparations. The 75th Hunger Games were less than twenty-four hours away after all. In the small side room, Diantha was stood alongside her father and Plutarch. A large screen in front of them showed the broadcast of the tribute interviews. Just like the rest of the nation, their eyes were glued to the screen.  
The interviews had been interesting to say the least. Some of the Victors acted upset and tried to appeal to the citizen’s hearts, whilst others focused on expressing their anger. However, all of them spoke of the same message; how unfair it was that they had to fight for their lives once again. As a reward, they had been promised exemption from the reapings by the Capitol, but they had taken it back without a care.  
As she watched, Diantha kept a blank face. However, internally she hated this. When certain faces showed up on the screen, Diantha could feel her stomach drop. Mags, the old woman from District 4 looked so old and frail in comparison to the others. There was no way she would last very long. Shortly after, Finnick’s declaration of love caused tears to form in people’s eyes. There was no doubt that hordes of women were thinking it was them he was referring to. Yet, the sincerity and emotion in his eyes as he looked directly into the camera showed that there was someone more than the Capitol women who fell at his feet. Diantha could feel her heart pounding in her chest as he spoke. He thought that he would have a future, but it was all taken from him. There was no doubt that Finnick had a good chance at winning, but there was some fierce competition.  
On the other hand, Johanna Mason from District 7 went for a completely different tactic for her interview. Allowing herself to let out all of her anger, she voiced her thoughts on being a tribute once again. She used some choice words to which Diantha couldn’t help but smile at. The woman had guts and she admired that. Not many would risk swearing on live television. Not that she would face any consequences, she was being sent to her death anyway.  
When Katniss graced the stage in her wedding dress the audience let out a collective gasp. The citizens of the Capitol had been looking forward to the wedding which was obviously never going to happen. Out of the corner of her eye, Diantha could see a hint of a smile on her father’s face when he saw her. As Katniss admitted that it was him whom had suggested she wear it, she knew why. Much to her pleasure however, his expression was wiped off when the dress transformed. The white fabric turned to black and wings spouted behind her turning her into the thing he most feared.

The Mockingjay.

As she watched her father tense, a smirk tugged at the side of her mouth once again. He was watching his control weaken in front of him. Although most wouldn’t understand the implications, it was an act of rebellion.  
But the surprises didn’t stop there. Just like he had the previous year, Peeta made an announcement which shocked everyone. Apparently, Katniss was pregnant. Whether it was true or not, it seemed to have the desired effect. The audience shouted in protest of the Games. It only got worse when they stood along the back as one. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“Look at this, they’re holding hands”. Snow broke the silence, his voice laced with venom. “I want them dead”.

“Be patience”. They’re holding hands now but the minute the guns go off it will be a bloodbath. The whole idea of revolution will be discredited” Plutarch replied, trying to keep the President calm.

Diantha resisted the urge to look at the two of them and instead kept her eyes on the screen, pretending to still be watching the broadcast. She wanted them to think that she wasn’t paying any attention. Now wasn’t the time to voice her opinions. She knew her place.

“And the idea of her? The idea of the Mockingjay?” Snow continued.

“The more allies she betrays, the more friends she kills; the more she reveals her true self”.

“As long as it ends with her picture in the sky and the sound of a cannon”.

“And it shall” Plutarch reassured.

“It better” Snow threatened.

Although she had suspicions that it was true, actually hearing those words leave his mouth make it all true. Her father had admitted he had planned all of this to get rid of Katniss. He did not care who else he dragged down with her. Any hope that the two from District 12 would make it out alive vanished in an instant and Diantha could only hope that their death would be as painless as possible.  
There was also no doubt that he had intended her to hear his plans. There was nothing she could do now after all. Still, she kept her eyes on the screen and her face expressionless. However, a million thoughts raced through her mind, her heart was racing, and her palms started to get sweaty. Snow had played his move, and, at this rate, he would win.

It was still dark when Diantha woke up the next morning. Saying that, she had hardly slept. For hours she had tossed and turned, falling into a light sleep before jolting awake again. Eventually she gave up and decided to sit on the sofa in the living room. Still in her PJ’s, she surrounded herself with pages of handwritten notes. A mug of tea was held tightly in her left hand as she used her right to flick through the pieces of paper. Despite running on an hour’s sleep, her eyes eagerly scanning the writing.  
Since the reaping Diantha had used the majority of her free time gathering as much information she could on each of the Victors. Luckily for her, highlights from previous games had been broadcasted on repeat. It made it easy to learn about each of the Victor’s tactics, strengths, weaknesses and an abundance of other information that could help.  
In a few hours the Hunger Games would begin, and people would be placing bets on who would win, if they hadn’t already. Whilst they decided, aided by the odds displayed on large screens, Diantha wasn’t sure who she wanted to win. None of them deserved to enter the arena again, but she hoped some would win other others. Those who wouldn’t win, she wanted nothing more than to make sure to do whatever she could to ensure that they got by without too much suffering. Although there had been more than one winner the previous year, that wouldn’t be allowed to happen again. Her father made that clear.  
Diantha hoped that the two Victors from District 12 wouldn’t endure too much suffering. It wasn’t clear as to why, but she felt a bit of responsibility for them. They had met only a handful of times and were only acquaintances. She doubted they even trusted her. Although, their joined experiences concerning the President could have to do with it. They had all been given tasks to help put a stop to the sparks of rebellion and had all somewhat failed. Maybe it was the guilt that they were facing punishment whilst she was carrying on as normal? Or if it was the fear that she would be next and could only hope that someone would have the same determination to save her. Whatever it was, the knowledge of her father’s intentions only fuelled the fire inside of her.  
The sun was rising above the tall Capitol buildings by the time Diantha moved form her position. She stretched before placing the empty mug in the sink. Gathering the pieces of paper into a pile, she made her way back up to her bedroom. Fishing a key from underneath the mattress, she unlocked a hidden draw in the bottom of her vanity. Hiding the papers inside, she made sure that it was locked and hid the key again. The draw had been put in to store any sensitive documents she had been given to study, like the ones before the party. Those had been taken away a few weeks before, so now that it was empty (other than a few things she kept hidden), it seemed like the best place to keep them. It wasn’t as if she would be reprimanded for having them, she hadn’t been told that she couldn’t make notes, but she didn’t want them to get damaged or misplaced.  
Diantha’s bedroom was pretty much the same as the rest of apartment. A king-sized bed was in the middle of the room and behind the grey, velvet headboard were large windows. The bedsheets were white silk and an abundance of white, fully pillows were thrown into a pile. Birch wardrobes lined the wall on it’s right, full of clothes she rarely wore. She had mostly resided in her apartment, so she hadn’t needed to. On the other side of the room were a set of draws which had been placed next to the two doors, one to the stairs downstairs and the other to her bathroom. The wooden floor was mostly covered with a large white rug, the same on the floor below. Against the wall directly opposite to her bed was a white vanity. It was an awkward position as the lights behind her meant that it was backlit. It wasn’t too much of an issue as, once again, she rarely had the reason to use it except to brush her hair. Today was probably the first time she would be using it for its intended use.  
None of it had been chosen by her. The entire apartment had been decorated per her father's wishes. She wasn't sure if it was the intention, but all the white served as a constant reminded that her father was always watching. His voice echoed in her head, saying the mantra he would tell her repeatedly as she grew up.

"Don't forget Diantha, Snow always lands on top". 

Opening the wardrobe door, Diantha searched through the sea of dresses until she found the one she wanted. She removed it from the hanger and laid it in front of her on her bed. Moving to sit in front of her vanity, she spread out the small collection of makeup she owned.  
It was time to get things started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! I hope everyone is doing well despite the current situation. 
> 
> Apologies for not updating for about three months, this have been a little hectic in my personal life. I had to move back home and finish my year at university remotely. Also my year abroad had been cancelled. So I've not really had the motivation to write. 
> 
> I also read The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (hint the reference in the chapter?). No spoilers but MY HEART!! 
> 
> Thanks for the comments and the support and the next chapter will be posted soon. I won't make you wait as long as this time, I promise!


	12. The Sponsors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for not updating for a while. I have been extremely ill over the last few months and haven't been able to use my computer. Thus, I haven't been able to write. Although I'm still not 100%, I'm feeling a lot better. Thanks for being patient and I hope you enjoy!

Despite being raised within the Capitol, very little of its customs were familiar to Diantha. A sheltered life had meant that she hadn’t experienced many of the things that the majority of its residents found normal. The only glimpse she had was through the television in her apartment. It was a window into the glamorous lifestyle she was supposed to have taken part in.

She wouldn’t say it out loud, god forbid if she did, she felt that she was more like those visiting from the Districts. Though still a world above them. Still, as she entered recent extravagant social events she looked around in awe and in some ways disgust and how some of these people acted. For example, it was far to early in the morning to be drinking but most people already had a glass in hand. A few looked like they already had several.

The first thing Diantha noticed when she entered the large room situated near the top of the tributes building was how busy it was. People were gathered in groups near the entrance talking amongst themselves. Diantha recognised a few of them. These people were considered the Capitol’s elite; businessmen, government officials, celebrities and so on. People with money. These were all of those who had taken on the title of ‘Sponsor’ during the Games. Working alongside Mentors and Escorts, they had the opportunity to send gifts to the tribute’s in the arena. These would make their time in the arena that little bit easier. Plus, a lot of them would have placed bets and would do anything to help their favoured tribute win.

It would be fairly easy to distinguish the Sponsors from the Mentors. The former donned the extravagant fashion expected in the Capitol. The Sponsors must have been up before dawn to get ready to the level they were. Diantha thought that they looked absolutely ridiculous, something that also set her further apart her fellow residents. Due to this, the Mentors would stick out tremendously. Not to say that they wouldn’t be presentable, but they were a lot more subdued. Most just wore simple outfits brought from back home that they wore almost every year. However, they were nowhere to be found, likely still with their tributes as they travelled to the arena. It would be another hour before the festivities would begin.

That left the Escorts. These were a little more difficult to locate. Usually they would be glued to the Mentor’s side. It was their job to work together to convince the Sponsors. Without them, they blended into the crowd. If she cared enough, she would have probably recognised them from the television coverage. Alas, she had more important things to do at the time. She wasn’t there to speak to them anyway.

It took only one look to see which group Diantha fell into. She wore a long black dress which hugged her slender frame. The skirt skimmed the floor and had a slit on either side reaching her mid-thigh. On her feet were a pair or black, jewelled stilettos which added several inches to her height. She was tall as it was, but these shoes made her almost six foot tall. The top half of her dress was made from a mesh material with swirls of white sown into it. An undershirt preserved her modesty. The sleeves reached her wrists and wrapped around her thumbs. Diantha adorned minimal makeup as a black mask concealed the upper half of her face. The geometric black wire obscured her features, so much so that her eyes appeared to have changed shades. Although, she did paint her lips a fiery red to bring a little bit of colour into her look. Her hair was tied into a very high bonytail. Woven into it were some black feathers which stood out against her blonde hair. Despite these feathers being similar to those from the bird Katniss represented, but they had in fact been taken from it’s original counterpart. She screamed ‘Capitol’. She felt like an idiot.

Very few people paid her any attention as she surveyed the room. Long sofa’s had been placed in front of television screens. The number of screens, she thought, were a bit excessive. Though she understood the reasoning. Wherever you were in the room, you could clearly see what was happening in the arena. Now, however, they were simply broadcasting recaps to refresh people’s memories. The volume was turned down low for now.

Avox’s walked through the room with treys of drinks, but refreshment tables were also placed throughout the room. Diantha made her way over to one near to the entrance. Laid on it were copious amounts of food and drinks. Most people would be spending the entire day in this room, so it would be needed. Diantha picked up a tall champagne glass filled with a green fizzing liquid. Although she didn’t know exactly what it was, the aroma told her that it was definitely alcohol. There was no way she would drink it. She hadn’t drunk alcohol before and had no plan to start now. However, it would be strange if she didn’t appear to be taking part in the festivities. Deciding to use it more as an accessory, she headed somewhere quieter. 

Despite the room being quite large, Diantha still had to weave through crowds of people. Some said hello, but she simply bowed her head back. She didn’t want to run the risk of anyone recognising her voice. It was doubtful, she had only spoken in public on very few occasions. Additionally, the little changes of her appearance made a big difference. She was taller, but more noticeably, her clothes were dark, and form-fitting compared to the bright looser things she usually wore. It was unlikely that anyone expected her to be there anyway.

Diantha walked the perimeter of the room in search for the one person she was looking for. However, as the thought, he wasn’t there yet. Instead, she decided to find somewhere quiet to sit and wait. A half-circular sofa was empty in the far corner of the room next to one of the windows. It was the furthest from the refreshments so it was unlikely anyone would disturb her. She watched the nearby screen as it switched between pre-game highlights and Caesar’s commentary. The volume was still turned down which she was happy with. She didn’t understand how someone could always be so cheerful.

“Can’t wait for it to start, huh?”

A man in his what looked like his late twenties took a seat on the sofa beside her, to her left. He donned a wine-red suit and white shoes. His black hair was cut short. His features were sharp, his black eyes intricately lined with white. There was a scar across his left eye. One thing that struck her as odd was that there were no signs of plastic surgery, something that was quite rare in the Capitol. Scars were usually covered. Not expecting anyone to talk to her, Diantha was momentarily caught off guard. She quickly composed herself and instantly slipped into the charismatic act that had become second nature.

“I wanted to ensure I got a good seat” she replied, adjusting her voice to a slightly higher pitch. “Plus, they may look good, but heels are a nightmare”.

“That’s one of the reasons I no longer wear them” he chuckled and held out his hand. “I’m Beor. May I ask yours? I don’t believe we’ve ever met”.

“Dee, and I don’t believe we have”.

“It’s nice to meet you then Dee. Although, with you’re mask it’s hard to tell if we have or not. It’s beautiful by the way”.

“Thank you” she replied. Initially, she had been unsure about wearing one. However, she was told that a few men and women wore them to these types of events. Some wanted to keep anonymity as Sponsors in case they would be pressured. She had asked for a specific design and, surprisingly, her father’s officials complied. She was there for him after all. Diantha switched the glass to her right hand just in case he decided to try and pull it off.

“I was thinking of getting one made, but I thought it would put too much pressure on this” he stated pointing to his scar. He quickly changed the subject. “So, who are you rooting for?” he asked shuffling a little closer. As subtlety as she could, Diantha moved over.

“There’s a couple of tributes that I want to keep my eye on”.

“I was the same, but I think I’m going to back Katniss. Kind of feel bad, my parents have business in District 3. Those two have no hope though”.

“You never know. They’ve won before, maybe they’ll do it again”

“True. Very true” he agreed. He seemed to be in thought for a moment before turning serious. “Maybe they’ll get allies”.

“Maybe” she mumbled. “They all seemed pretty friendly on the stage last night”.

“Well, you know allies are always important. All they need to do is find someone who won’t stab them in the back”. Beor stared intently at her, his eyes seemingly trying to read her own. All of a sudden, she felt uncomfortable, that this wasn’t a simple conversation. She definitely hadn’t met him before, but he could be one of her father’s people sent to spy on her and make sure that she was doing her job. Or he could have somehow figured out her identity. Diantha knew that she had to play it cool.

“Someone will have to get stabbed in the back eventually, that the way the Hunger Games works. There can only be one winner”.

“There were two last year.”

“That was a one off that will be corrected”.

“True. But you can’t deny that having someone on your side, even if you know that they’ll eventually betray you, is better than nothing”. Diantha said nothing in response. She didn’t really know how to. Allies, in her opinion, were pointless in the arena. “Sometimes the most unlikely of allies make the most effective teams.”

Diantha looked at Beor and tried to scan his face. Other than the same look of intensity, he was giving nothing else away. He knew who she was, the words to personal for a random stranger. Who he was, however, she still didn’t know. Before either could continue someone coughed from behind them. The pair on the sofa turned at the same time.

Stood behind them, a drink in hand, was Haymitch. He looked severely out of place in his beige suit. His hair was pushed away from his face and he seemed to stand a little straighter than the other times Diantha had seen him. Maybe it was because he had a job to do, or he hadn’t had the chance to drink yet.

“Nice feathers. Jabberjay?” he asked gesturing to her dress.

“You have a good eye” she smiled at him before turning to Beor and holding out her hand. “It’s was very nice meeting you”. Diantha hoped that he would take the hint and, luckily, he did.

“And you” he shook Diantha’s hand before leaving and disappearing into the now growing mass of people. She gestured for Haymitch to take his place. He looked at her in such a way she could tell that he was attempting to work out if it was her or not. “It’s me” she said returning to her regular pitch. As he sat down next to her, she felt herself relax. The sense of uneasiness had disappeared.

“Had to make sure. You made the note a little cryptid”.

“I had to”.

“Was it your idea or your dad’s?”

“Mine. He didn’t send me here if that’s what you’re insinuating. Although he probably knows I’m here”.

“Are you here to give another warning then?” he asked.

“No. The damage is already done for them” she said glumly. A look of confusion crossed his face. “Come on, you can’t tell me that you haven’t worked it out? Katniss and Peeta are in the arena with very little chance of surviving. They’re received their punishment for failing to stomp out the flames. Mine is yet to come. I just want to help whilst I can”.

“How do you know that something will happen to you?”

“I don’t”.

“Why risk it by being here?”

“He doesn’t know exactly what I’m doing here. It could be for him for all he knows. A member of the Snow family taking an active interest in the Hunger Games is good for publicity”.

“And what if I don’t want your help. After everything he has done why should I trust you?” he scrutinized.

“I don’t care if you trust me or not. You need sponsors and I have money. I can also be pretty convincing. Either way, I’m staying here so it’s up to you” she refused to break eye contact, hoping that he could see the truth in her eyes. “You can betray me just as easily. One word to the Peacekeepers about what I say and I’ll be locked up again”.

Haymitch was the first to break eye contact and looked at the floor deep in thought. Diantha looked down at the green liquid in her glass and swirled it around absentmindedly.

“Aren’t you a bit young to drink Princess?” Diantha laughed.

“It’s just for appearances” she explained, pointing at those around them. A group nearby took almost an entire tray of entrees from an Avox passing by before forcibly shoving the tray back at them. Both watched them with disgust and Diantha placed her glass on the glass table in front of them. “Maybe I don’t want to fit in that much”.

“I don’t trust you, but I accept your help” Haymitch decided.

“Thank you”

Suddenly the volume on the television screens turned up and the image on the screen changed. The arena, in all its glory was finally revealed. Diantha’s stomach filled with dread and twenty-four figures emerged and the countdown started.

_"Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…”_

Diantha turned to Haymitch. “So, what’s your plan?”


End file.
